Running Into The Dark
by Purple Mango
Summary: A girl runs away from home and ends up in a certain Junkyard. I wrote this for my English exam so it's not a real Cats fanfic but inspired by Cats


Author's Notes: This isn't my first Cats fanfic but it's the first one I've posted because the other one (the better, longer morey Cats related one) isn't finished yet. It might not seem that Cats-y but it's from my English exam. We had to write about a person going into a place for the first time and obviously Cats was the first thing that came to mind so I did a person entering the Junkyard for the first time. Jesus, how many times did I use the word 'forst' in that sentence!!! 

Disclaimer: I don't own Cats, it all belongs to Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber and the Really Useful Group, not me!!!!! 

Running Into The Dark 

by Purple Mango (a.k.a. najuk) 

I slammed the door of the house. I turned and ran as hard as I could down the street, tears welling up at the corners of my eyes. I heard the door open behind me and a faint cry of "Aeva! Get back here!" as I shot around the corner. I ignored it. I wasn't going to talk to that speaker again, in fact, I didn't even plan on ever seeing the stupid woman again. 

My feet pounded down street after street, my anger and frustration providing me with fresh surges of energy that pushed me forward. Hot tears trickled down hot cheeks. Even as I had left the house the sun had been setting and now it was almost pitch black but for the street lamps. I was running into the dark. 

I didn't know where I was going and frankly I didn't care. By the time my legs felt like they would collapse at any minute I was far away from my starting point and that was all that mattered. I slowed down and tried to calm my breathing. It appeared that I was totally lost and in a part of the city completely alien to me. It was also clear to me that I was standing at the gates to a huge junkyard. 

Well, at least they wouldn't find me here, I thought, trying to force even the faintest of smiles to my lips. However, the idea of living in a rubbish tip did not appeal to me greatly. It would have to do, I told myself, at least for tonight. 

The piles of rubbish seemed to be endless as I cautiously made my way through them. Bulging black bags were piled high, making a very smelly polythene coated mountain. Wrinkling my nose in disgust I hurried past them, scrambling over old sofas and broken tables in an effort to get somewhere. The moon had now risen and it cast an eerie light over everything, filling the place with shadows. 

Carefully I crawled up and old door that rested against some other junk. The green paint was flaking and it cracked and clung to my hands and knees as I gripped on to the top of it, pulling myself up to look over. In front of me lay an almost perfectly round clearing. 

The moon's light played on it, making it seem almost luminous. The concrete floor was bare but for an old boot right in the centre. It seemed very odd that a junkyard could seem beautiful but this place truly was. It was enclosed by several large pieces of discarded furniture or things from building sites. There was a rusty oven, a large tractor tie, a long pipe, a stained mattress and a broken sofa. They all faced inwards as if making seats and perches from which some vast spectacle could be viewed. At one side of the circle and old Ford car had been backed up so that the boot was facing inwards. The car was rusted and the brown coat was cracked and dented. On top of this there was a small bundle, probably just another bag of rubbish. 

It didn't seem right to climb down and enter this mysterious place. I felt I would be invading someone's privacy. But whose? Surely there could be no one else in the terrible - and yet fantastic - tip? Even though my brain was forcing me not to I found myself unable to resist the urge to get down and investigate. I swung my legs over and jumped the short distance to the ground. I walked slowly around the perimeter of the clearing, not daring to step into the middle for fear of breaking some unknown code of conduct. Now that I was down there I felt the magic of it even more. It was strange that half an hour ago I had been hot and full of anger and hatred and yet now I was feeling such beautiful sensations it was almost pure bliss. 

I felt elated. At the same time though I felt nervous. Horribly nervous. What if I was found here? What would they do to me? Shall I just run now and make the most of it? I couldn't stay and I couldn't go. 

Cautiously I made my way silently over to the old Ford and tried to climb on top of it. Immediately I sat atop the boot the bundle that had been lying there uncurled itself and jumped on to my lap. 

It stretched its paws up to my face and tried to claw my cheek. A cat! I batted it away nervously, was this his home? Had he been watching me all along? The grey tabby stepped back, and crouched, tensing his muscles. His green eyes narrowed and it was obvious that he was about to make another attack. 

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I shouldn't have come here." 

He seemed to understand and withdrew, staring up at me, still unsure. 

"I'll go if you want," I said nervously. 

The cat immediately jumped on my lap again. I flinched instinctively until I realised that this time he was purring. He rubbed head against my hand and nuzzled my skin. My heart beat intensely, almost going as fast as when I had been running. I could stay here in this wonderful place, I knew it. All worried and troubles dissolved from my mind. He would let me stay. 

Well, it wasn't too bad for forty minutes under-pressure writing was it?! And yes the cat **is** Munkustrap (God I love him!). R+R if you please.


End file.
